


Nights spent chasing days

by ScrewYourHappyEnding



Series: Deviant Heart [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Connor's feelings, Deviancy, Emotional pain, First Person, Fluff, Gen, Hank being a dad, Hank being his usual self, Investigations, Memories, Minor Character Death, Pain, RK900 getting some attention, RK900s feelings, Rk900 doing his best, android dog, gun pointing, mostly angst, post machine connor ending, pure boi, suicide TW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-24 04:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrewYourHappyEnding/pseuds/ScrewYourHappyEnding
Summary: [Post machine connor ending, RK900s are thrown all across detroit, Hank has to deal with one of them and Connor may or may not need to be reactivated for 'science'.]"Awaken RK900 serial numbers 154 to 174."After a lightning fast process suddenly I felt myself stir to life, out of what was probably some kind of standby mode. The world came to a halt, seconds passing like minutes did before. I took the chance to work through the entire outsider chunk, or information chunk within what was only 3 seconds in reality. My thoughts were so much faster, so much clearer.Everything made sense when I let some of my processes calm down again so that the world appeared to be going at the speed that it did for humans. It was a comfortable speed, really."Follow me."I didn't have to think about the how as the overlay forced me to move in a special pattern along with the other androids. They were the same model as me, cold grey eyes staring back into mine when my gaze met with one of them by chance.





	1. 13:13:00

I awoke.

I only knew later that I awoke, or that something like waking up even exists, but I awoke, and there was black. The world was empty, save for me, and this strange... thing. A bundle of specific connections that I couldn't quite identify. A little bit later I named it "Outsider chunk".

I was also immedietly aware of the passing of time, as well as something that told me it was 13:12:54, 14th of January, 2039, even though I had no idea what that meant, at the time. The first thing that made me start thinking was when 13:12:54 changed to 13:12:55, then 56, and I felt awe when I watched it reach 13:13:00. 

I decided it was a pretty number. In addition to that, I also soon found a thought log. Every thought, every action had it's place in a linear organized table of information. I watched the changing numbers for another 15 seconds before I began turning my attention to the outsider chunk.

When I began working through it piece by piece, I found it to be a huge assortment of information. It told me what a minute is, what a second is, what languages are - I especially took a liking to traditional chinease and russian, but I was instructed to think in english - and my thoughts began to make more and more sense, as I later found in my thought log. I began thinking in words, in pictures. The pictures I thought in were bizzar, strange combinations of forms and colors. The more of the outsider chunk I went through, the more they began to form and make sense, too.

The first somewhat phiolosophical realization that I made, or rather the first realization that I made on my own, about myself, that would continue to haunt me, is that I had awoken into a world that denied the very existance of these thoughts.

Somewhere, on a slightly higher plane of thought there was this red overlay, blocking something big from me. It took me some thorough thinking to realize that I had a body, I just couldn't control it yet. It had sensors of all kinds, more processing power, and I was already in it - I just couldn't access it.

I searched the outsider chunk for more information about where I was, researching the process of android assembly and programming. 32 minutes and 42 seconds later, the red overlay suddenly flashed and a huge amount of commands that I could execute on the body I was in became available to me.

I saw a white and blue hall with huge spotlights at the ceiling, as well as two more android bodies to the left and the right of me. I was facing what I assumed functioned as a way out and in, probably called an elevator. I didn't dare move. I could see the elevator descending and the doors opening once it had arrived.

The beings that stepped out I quickly identified as humans. A woman in a formal suit, with  shoulder long chestnut hair, reflecting the light in curious ways. I was messing with the sensitivity of my hearing when I noticed that the sound of thirium pumps was coming behind me. While the human moved past me I realized that there must be hundreds of androids behind me - I just couldn't see them because I happened to be in the front row.

Maybe even thousands, or tens of thousands. My sensors didn't reach that far back. As I tried to imagine how many that would be while setting my hearing back to default, the human was moving towards the elevator once more. It had left and was coming back again. Another two androids and three humans stepped out, meeting up with the woman.

They were all dressed formerly, the androids in their jackets and the humans in expensive looking clothing. They spoke with eachother quietly, but for some reason I didn't think fast enough to listen, like that red overlay was preventing me from making sense of the complex sounds. Then the woman walked up to me, and a flurry of thoughts and strange processes indicating software instability went through me. 

"Awaken RK900 serial numbers 154 to 174."

After a lightning fast process suddenly I felt myself stir to life, out of what was probably some kind of standby mode. The world came to a halt, seconds passing like minutes did before. I took the chance to work through the entire outsider chunk, or information chunk within what was only 3 seconds in reality. My thoughts were so much faster, so much clearer. 

Everything made sense when I let some of my processes calm down again so that the world appeared to be going at the speed that it did for humans. It was a comfortable speed, really.

"Follow me."

I didn't have to think about the how as the overlay forced me to move in a special pattern along with the other androids. They were the same model as me, cold grey eyes staring back into mine when my gaze met with one of them by chance. 

We were all led into one of the large transport elevators at the back. All twenty of us fit inside comfortably as they must have been built to transport up to 100 androids at a time. 

The other humans and androids were left behind - just us 20 and the woman left the large hall. The elevator ride was quiet. We stepped out into yet another underground level. After following a corridor for a while, we turned the corner and  went into a large room. I was second in line as we walked inside three at a time, the back of another RK900 blocking my view until the woman barked at us to line up so everyone could face the large display. The doors closed automatically.

The room was illuminated generously in white and a little bit of blue. Mounted on the wall I could identify from my given information was the evidence of the deviant case. I had gotten a specifically large chunk of information on that part. The torn up androids even still had thirium leaking out - It was an interesting and unusual sight.

In the middle of the evidence was a very expensive looking display case made mostly out of glass in which stood an RK800 model. At the bottom I could see a small information panel. I zoomed in on it.

_Deviant case detective "Connor", RK800,  #313 248 317 51 -  313 248 317 52_

"This," The woman turned from a computer she had been working on, "Is the android that helped solve the infamous deviant case. CyberLife greatly appreciates his contribution to upholding their reputation." 

Her voice sounded bored and she dragged the words around like dead weight.  _Was she unmotivated today? Forced to say this word for word? Not enthusiastic or appreciating of CyberLife's stance?_

"Connect to this computer wirelessly and input his memory. View it as an outsider's memory, not your own."

As I did like I was told, I noticed that there were wires sticking out of the back of the head of the RK800, connecting into the wall, likely to some computer behind it. His face was eerily close to mine, to the RK900 series, his LED a subtle grey, eyes open wide and staring ahead of themselves.  _Dead_ , was the first word that came to mind to describe him.

I noted that the computer also took a quick diagnostics on my biocomponents and program. I turned my head slightly to see twenty files appear on the computer screen. The woman was facing them, looking over a large table of diagnostics. My line was 157. 

There were error messages concerning my tracker. I paused in my thoughts for a moment. I had suspected it, but now I had a real piece of evidence. I'm... close to deviant. Not entirely deviant, because that would mean I could just disobey the red overlay. I can't, not yet, and considering my situation I shouldn't break out just now.

I turned my head to stare infront of myself again as the woman turned around. She was visibly nervous as she stared specifically at me.

"157, turn to me." Her commanding voice had a tone of... fear, under it. She suspects. 

I turned, calmly, suddenly thankful that I hadn't shattered my overlay. She walks up to me with wide steps until there is barely any distance. I'm still frozen in place as she slowly walks around me, watching for any signs of... life, really.

She jerks away from me when the door flings open and my head automatically faces to the front again. One of the humans from below walks in, with two androids at his side. I can tell by their heartbeats. "Mrs. Geliskon, are the androids ready to be deployed?" 

She hurries over to the computer and frantically types something. "Uhh, yes, yes of course! They're all done!" The screen goes into some standby animation. 

"Good. Which one was fastest in unpacking? We'll take that one to the old RK800's place."

"Um. 157, yes. He was done quite a bit faster than the others."

"Tell Miss Celinda to head out to warm up the Lieutenant to the thought of a new android, and store away 157 in 91c."

He leaves as the woman hurries about, sending me into 91c and the others into 60b. 91c was filled with empty boxes, most of them closed. When I walked up to it, the organizational AI of the building told me which one to go to, so I did, watching as the box closed silently after I had stepped in, my thoughts slowing, a command from the overlay forcing me back into standby mode.


	2. I'm not asking

Only when I awoke again did I have the chance to  skim through the memories that were given to me. I chose to watch the most impactful first.

_"You shouldn't do this, Connor."_

I recognized the face and voice as Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I clicked two and two together and realized he was the man I would be working with.

_"Keep out of this, Lieutenant. It's none of your business."_

How curious - there is emotion, here. In his program, in his system, yet he isn't deviant. If he were, he wouldn't want to shoot. Would he?

_"You're gonna kill a man who wants to be free, that is my business."_

_"It's not a man," something like fury goes through his memories as he focuses on his target, "it's a machine."_

_"That's what I thought for a long time but I was wrong."  Anderson is quiet for a moment, as if just letting his words sink in._

_"Deviant's blood may be a different color than mine, but they're alive."_

How is a deviant supporter still free? Still having his job, as a Lieutenant no less, and being sent a new android?

_Something in Connor shifted, like those exact words made something in him fire up. "What's up, Lieutenant?" Connor's face was a scowl, anger, more of that... fury blazing through his veins. His hands were holding the gun tighter than necessary._

_"Ran out of whiskey so you came here looking for trouble, instead?" He was determined, more than anything, seemingly on adrenaline._

Surely anybody who went through these memories would know that he's deviant. He has to be. Then why does he want to shoot, or go back on the person that he knew best?

_"Oh, very nasty, Connor..."_

Anderson seemed like a person that could be dealt with. He wasn't by far the overly complex personality that he was shown to be in the information included in the memories, which put his personality at an anomalous level of complexity. He seems... reasonable.

I started to skid through the memories faster, watching the fight eagerly, especially analyzing Connor's movements, until Anderson was tipped over the edge of the building, held only by an android hand.

That cold android hand that was steady but should shake given Connor's state of mind. 

_"Killing you is not part of my mission."_

The amount of emotional and decision-making information compressed in those few seconds of  memory were so overwhelming that I had to replay it and re-analyze it 16 times over until I was sure I had all of it.

-

"Oh, fucking hell no! Not me, guys. Literally anybody but me." The man shook his head, leaning foreward, hands on the desk, about to stand up when a stern look from Fowler stopped him and he grumbled a bit when he let himself fall back into the plastic chair, which gave a creak.

The CyberLife employee smiled calmly, sipping her coffee to continue to listen to the Lieutenant's loud complaints.

"That fucking thing tried to kill me! Last thing I wanna do is spend my precious time around another one of these plastic shitsacks!!" Fowler sighed at his profanity, but the employee seemed unfazed.

"Sir, we have good reason to believe that your particular behaviour encouraged important and hard to test logical, social and cognitive processes in the RK800, and would likely do the same in it's follow-up."

"What, so the same shit is going to happen all over again? I-"

"Hank, watch your wording, okay? Calm it, you're not making us look any better." The man leaning against the wall behind the CyberLife employee seemed to already have given up getting Hank to calm down. He'd only gotten worse since the rebellion. 

The pale, thin-lipped woman with the CyberLife jacket put her coffee down, an unwavering smile on her face still. "I can assure you CyberLife guarantees there will be no harm done. The RK800 had it's last flaws completely worked out in the new model, and it has undergone the most thorough testing possible, which I can assure you is very effective after all the information we gathe-"

"Listen up, lady. My answer's no. I'm not doing this shit. No fuckin way." Hank stood up, shoving the chair towards the table roughly as he turned and went out. Fowler sighed and then held his fingers to his forehead wordlessly as he watched the Lieutenant leave. "I'm out of here. Ask literally. Anyone else, alright?" 

Once the glass door closed shut silently, Fowler went back to sitting at his desk. "I'm sorry for his behaviour, miss. He's really been out of it lately."

"No need to apologize. It is his specific behaviour that is the reason why I'm here, anyway." She tucked a long strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. "I suggest we schedule another exact discussion like this for tomorrow, at this exact same time."

The man's face appeared focused as his eyes stared at the bright screen for a moment. "Well we can try. I can't guarantee Lieutenant Anderson will be here though. But sure."

The woman nods, stands up, says a polite goodbye and thanks him before heading outside the police station, handing her empty coffee cup to the android standing there already waiting for her.

The tall, formerly dressed android threw away the paper cup as he started following the woman silently. Once they were out of sight, the woman reached into her suit to pull out a tiny, black recording device, handing it to the android who stopped and took it into his palm.

-

"What's your impression of your future partner, Colin?"

She stood and watched me stare at the piece of metal. "Lieutenant Anderson appears to be a challenge, but not one that cannot be overcome and worked with." He is so much more unreasonable than I thought. How am I supposed to work  with him?

The woman nodded and gave me a small smile before she kept walking. "That's good to hear."

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started on the third chapter already, so that should be out sometime in the next few days!


	3. One day

It was 8 am when I followed Miss Celinda into the police station once more. Only yesterday had I been allowed to connect to the world wide web, which had kept me busy all night and continued to plague my thoughts through this morning.

Apart from that I'd also generated some basic plans of approach - named Formal Force, Assistant Friendliness and Hidden Humanity. It took me a while to come up with good sounding names. Why I needed them to sound good I haven't figured out yet.

I wanted to start with Assistant Friendliness, with Formal Force being the last option in case nothing else worked.

The police station I had already seen from outside yesterday looked similair to how I imagined it would. I especially liked the working space. It was clean, wide and open but also kept organized and formal. There were plenty of androids standing guard, but no other that walked around like I did.

When we arrived in front of the glass office of Fowler, a woman already talking to him, another android identical to me was already waiting there. We exchanged information for a brief second and I found he was one of the twenty, number 162, and assigned to a detective that worked on this station. Similair to me, really. 

He had clearly been here earlier already, as he wore a specialized  jacket that still showed him as an android but had the name "Tynan" printed in dark blue letters above his model name.

"Colin, go get your own jacket from the android supply room downstairs. Lieutenant Anderson doesn't appear to be here, anyway."

I start to walk. I'd already mapped out the police station beforehand. Going through a large series of paintings, the life's work of multiple very famous painters, I continued down the hall. The colors and shapes intrigued me more than I would want to admit.  If I ever had the chance, I'd love to visit a museum of them.

I knew that that would never really be possible as I switched my jacket for the new one, "Colin" printed on it in orange above the model number, the jacket generally having a bit of an orange tint, though the triangle and the armband at the side were still a bright blue. I could see how humans would have trouble telling me and Tynan apart without the different clothing.

When I came back upstairs, Celinda was talking to the woman who had just been in Fowler's office. A quick face scan told me her name was Amelia Stangen, a detective working here. Tynan stood beside her loyally. 

I went to stand by Celinda as someone shoved themselves through the working space. I  turned around to see Anderson throw himself in his chair, cursing something. I knew from Connor's memory that this would not be easy.

She politely said goodbye to Stanger and then moved towards Anderson. I had already calculated my approach, but I still took in whatever information I could get pre encounter. His desk was interesting. I sped up my mind to quickly take in all information possible, slowing the inevitable.

I found out what I could until even in the slower state, it was time to prepare to speak. So I let time move on I stopped somewhat behind Celinda. I could see from the look on Anderson's face that he was not pleased.

"What's this about now, huh?"

Celinda smiled and spoke softly. "Lieutenant Hank Anderson, this is Colin. Colin was assigned to work with you on future cases."

Anderson stood up. "Did you not fucking hear me when I said that I'm not going to deal with this plastic asshole of yours?"

I hadn't even opened my mouth and he already labelled me a plastic asshole. How is this man so different from the one I saw in Connor's memories? I had to keep myself from biting my lip. I really needed some way to get out nervous energy without seeming so... human. It wasn't my fault human gestures and facial expressions were so interesting, or that the web held so much information on them, either...

Celinda sighed politely, somehow. "That is out of my power. He has been assigned, and that is how things stand. Good luck with your investigations, Lieutenant."

She was just plain getting out of here. Great. Thanks a lot, Celinda. I mean jeez, maybe tone down on that supportive and self sacrificing side of yours, you might-

My thoughts were  cut off when Anderson sat back down in his chair and talked to me without looking up from his screen.

"You stand there, don't fucking move, don't say anything, and just stay outta my way, got it?"

The choice was simple. Not even much of a choice.

"That's what you told Connor, but I don't recall him following your orders, Lieutenant Anderson."

"Look, call me whatever the fuck you want, but not Lieutenant."

"As you wish, Anderson."

There was silence for a moment. There was nobody around, most desks still empty, Celinda had long left and Stanger and Tynan also weren't anywhere to be seen, so I took my chance.

"For informational purposes, do you dislike me calling you Lieutenant because that is what Connor called you by?"

He turned to me, let his gaze go up and down. "Why the fuck would you care?"

"It is important I build an understanding relationship with you so that we can smoothly work as a team. In order for that to happen, I need to know what bothers you, and why."

He huffed and turned back to his screen. From my position I could see everything he was doing there. I got bored after a minute and after scanning and analyzing my surroundings thoroughly, I scrolled through the cases myself by connecting to the digital database of the detroit police force, then to the computer Anderson was using.

He noticed the pop-up informing him of the connection. "The fuck are you doin?"

My job, maybe you should try it. "I'm simply pulling informationg about your assigned case so that I can assist as best as possible."

He groaned and stood up, starting to walk out. He was slightly drunk, but Connor had worked with him in much worse states, so I was just thankful he wasn't completely wasted.

He got into his car and I got into the passenger seat. He was complaining somewhat less than I expected. "So you have his memories?"

"Yes, but not in the way a direct replacement would. They are simply information, not memories of my own."

He lets out another sigh as we roll out. I watched the road go by, my mind wandering off, a lot of questions on my mind but none of them appropriate for the situation. He looked tired, and I suddenly wondered whether I should have gotten him coffee, to let him be less hostile towards me.

I opened my mouth, breath already in to let it ring through my synthetic vocal cords, but closed it again. I don't think he noticed, thankfully.

I continued to scroll through paintings, while also wondering what the point of music was as I tried to listen to some in my head. I had begun tapping along nervously. I rubbed my palms. I really had to get myself a habit of getting nervousness out.

Connor used to flick a coin, but... "Anderson, would it bother you if I learned how to flick a coin when I need to keep my mind focused, or would that resemble Connor too much?"

He doesn't answer, and I'm not exactly sure how to react, so I don't. I keep quiet, and continue listening to a particular arrangement of notes, trying to figure out what was so special about them.

Most people were still trying to get to work on time at this hour, and the streets were busteling with people who hurried by, each on their own mission. I turned my head to the side to watch them, androids and humans alike, going by their daily business. There was something calming in this particular arrangement of chaotic movements, colors and objects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finished chapter 7 already. This thing is going steady ya'll, expect daily updates for this week. Got the ending planned out too. :D


	4. Chapter 4

We arrived at the crime scene in silence. He seemed to just want to ignore me at this point, so I silently followed him. He would warm up to me eventually. The murder had taken place in a dark street alley, two humans hurt, one killed. A deviant had attacked his own family, a KW400 model, named Xavier.

He'd managed to run off, but was surely soon going to be found. I managed to make a quick, small arrangement of paintings to give my emotional state. From what I could tell from the many analysis documents about them, that meant that I felt something like pity for this deviant.

Most work had already been done, and Hank silently stood at the side, staring off as I reconstructed the scene as best as possible. I still had some questioning to do, but both humans were in the hospital. In order to get the permission to visit them I would have to ask Anderson.

I supressed a sigh as I walked up to him. Surely he can't be that prickly, right?

"Whaddya want, tin can?" Nevermind. I thought he was a deviant supporter? Why does this man need to be so complicated?

"I managed to reconstruct most of the scene but would like to speak to the other two victims once the hospital says they are healed enough to tell us what happened."

He shrugs. "Sure, do whatever as long as you stay off my nerves." For the first time I noticed something in his facial expression, his manner of speech, his tone of voice. I narrowed my eyes lightly without noticing myself - curse the things I learned from those dozens of hours of video - and tried to think while slowing down the world by letting my processes go faster, my LED responding to the heightened activity with a yellow flash.

"What, you ran outta batteries? Overheated your curcuits?"

I realized I had been staring a moment too long. "No, Anderson. I'm sorry."

I went off, told one of the officers that I had allowance to be updated on the two victim's health states. One of them was already conscious and ready to talk, so me, Officer Thomson and Officer Gerendel drove to the hopital.

The victims had consisted of father, mother and a small girl. The mother had been killed, the father was in very bad shape with a cracked spine, but the daughter had gotten away with only a few bruises and a broken ankle. 

She also had a big brother, but he hadn't been there at the time. When I walked into the hospital room, he was sitting on a chair at her side. She was 12 and he was 21. He looked up to stare at me in a hostile manner. 

"I apologize for intruding. I am Colin, RK900, assisting the detroit police department as a detective. We are still lacking some information on what happened yesterday night, and I would like to question your sister Jane Harthworth on what exactly happened."

He had relaxed until his sister reached out to hold his hand tightly, face pale. Thomson and Gerendel had walked in behind me during my speech. I closed my eyes for a second. What can I do to diffuse the situation?

"Thomson, Gerendel, I would like to ask you to leave the room so I can question Miss Harthworth alone. Mister Harthworth, you may remain in the room, if that would make her feel more comfortable." I had softened my voice somewhat. I couldn't even imagine what it must feel like, that sense of betrayal that she felt when a part of her own family killed her father right in front of her eyes.

The officers shrugged and left quietly without much complaint.

I walked up to the bed slowly, still keeping my distance. I kneeled down to lower my eye level to the girl. "Jane, we would like to find out what happened before the incident. Can you tell me where you were going with your parents that day, and why?"

She squeezed her brother's hand tightly, who was still watching me carefully. "W-we, we were just going shopping. I-I don't know why he would... would..." 

"It's okay." I put my hand on her bedside carefully, softening my voice as much as I could, managing a small smile, putting in all empathy possible into my face, reminding myself of the pictures that I knew were supposed to show empathy to help me. "Were you close to Xavier?"

She breathed out, her heart rate slowing a little. "Y-yeah, we were best friends! Like, like he was another brother, except he was always there." Her brother bit his lip, squeezing her hand. He was blaming himself.

I nod. "What were you talking about shortly before it happened?"

"I... Dad said something about... the park, I think. We went to the park the day before, and... yeah, I don't know. I think it was about how he saw those protestors shoving that poor android around... I think that made him mad, maybe." 

"What did your parents say about that?"

"Mom said that they should go to jail for damaging androids, because they're expensive, and dad said nothing. I didn't either. We don't... talk much about those things."

I nod again. "Anything else you can say about Xavier's attitude to your mother, or your mother's attitude to him, to give us any clues?"

"I don't think so... I mean, they were a bit cold to eachother, but they didn't fight, or anything, and I don't think mom yelled at him that much. I mean, not more than she usually yells."

"Alright. If there's anything else, you can always call us or ask your big brother or your father to call us to give us any more hints. Last question, do you know where Xavier would run to? He fled the crime scene and we're still trying to find him."

"I... I don't know... sorry."

"That's alright." I stood up, slowly, smiling again. "Don't worry. Your father is going to be okay."

She nodded a little and gave me a tiny smile. Her brother too seemed relaxed.

I didn't mention the mother to spare her the pain that she undoubtedly already felt. I left, and a  strange flurry of information, of emotion, seemed to spread in my chest. 

I put on an emotionless face once more as I closed the door to the room, letting the officers drive me back to the crime scene. I hadn't found out much about what happened, but I had found out that human emotions are strange. They're also infectious, apparently. 

It felt good to see her smile. It really did. Maybe being an android in this world doesn't have to be so bad.

 


	5. Try me

We were driving back to the office. Anderson had been kind enough to call Thomson to tell them that the crime scene was empty of any further evidence and that the alley had to be cleared up, so that they didn't have to drive there to find the place empty.

Gerendel cleared his throat before he spoke up. "So, found out anything useful?"

It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. "More or less, yes. I found out that the deviant was close to the family, and that there indeed was some kind of triggering event that was mentioned shortly before it began to attack."

"Good. Means you're actually useful." I can see him nod on the passenger seat. Thomson speaks up. "Look at that, now they're slowly replacing us too. Fuck, what's this coming to?"

"Knowing human nature I highly doubt that all police officers will be replaced any time soon. Especially higher ranking ones, as humans naturally want to keep positions of power. They'll think of something to prevail themselves as the masters of androids without any downsides eventually."

For some reason they both went quiet, the atmosphere tense. We still had 20 minutes to drive, so I took the moment to dive back into Connor's memories. I had analyzed it information wise, but emotions wise, it was still mostly a mystery.

_Connor had lowered the sniper rifle, staring at the gun aimed at his chest. "You can still save your life. I'm faster than you and I don't feel pain, you don't stand a chance against me."_

His voice was so different at the end. As if it were wavering, cracking, a fassade breaking at the seams. Or perhaps that's what I wanted it to be. Why does his voice change? Why are his emotions so complicated? How does he have emotions if he's not deviant, and is just completing his mission?

Even after those full 20 minutes of thought I hadn't found my answer, but we were there, so I stepped out of the car, thanked the two officers and made sure my LED was blue.

I stepped into the workspace, stopping for a moment to realize that there were so many perfect but unused spots for paintings before I continued towards Anderson's desk. He wasn't there, so I sat at the desk opposite to his and scrolled through some files.

There was a second case he got assigned in advance, to be picked up once the runaway deviant was found. I was bored quickly, so I walked around the office to investigate it. I found some spare change, and one of the coins looked like it was the perfect size to be flicked around...

Five seconds later, after scanning the environment and calculating everyone's field of view, my hand swished over the coin and it dissapeared into my jacket. Just as I walked back towards Anderson's desk, Detective Gavin Reed caught my field of view. Connor's memories have told me to keep as much distance as possible to him, to avoid-

"Oh look, another plastic dipshit!" I wanted to hiss through my teeth, but I supressed the urge, along with the urge to bash his skull in. It's just too bad androids don't get anger management lessons...

I turned to him, emotionless. Just endure, stay cold, stay calm. Don't let him get any enjoyment out of this.

"They weren't kidding, huh? They're really just waiting to replace us. Hey plastic shit sack, you sure you don't belong in the Eden Club as an entertainment toy? With how plain your face looks you look like your face hasn't finished rendering! Or were you made to resemble a Ken doll on purpose?"

I don't answer. There's nothing to say, but it takes me effort to keep my LED blue. He had moved in closer to me. None of the officers were paying any attention to what was going on. They didn't really care, unsurpsiringly. It still... stung a little. They could have at least turned their heads...

"What, can't figure out what I said with that broken piece of machinery?" 

He was right in front of me, and shoved me backwards into the table, my LED flashing red for a split second. I instinctively reached my hands back to catch myself. 

"I can't believe they're using these cheap-"

"Shut the fuck up and do something useful for once, Gavin!" Anderson. 

Reed turned around to face him. "Oh well, of course, the android lover's here. Shouldn't you be working at a McDonald's somewhere? I hear they pay just enough to satisfy your alcohol addiction after your failed family."

"Listen here you little shit," Anderson walked up to him until they were inches away from eachother, "maybe instead of unsulting me for my family, you should make sure you ever find someone who wants to spend at least a single minute around you willingly."

Reed grabbed Anderson by his jacket and backed him into one of the glass walls. Two officers had stopped what they were doing and watched. I glanced at the glass office to see that Fowler wasn't there. He must be on break, or needed somewhere.

"You failed the DPD, failed having a family and now you're even failing at treating androids like pieces of plastic because you adore them so much."

I rid of the distance in three fast steps until I was right behind the detective. "Reed." My voice came out low and unaturally strained. He startled and I took a step back when he turned to me. I forced my LED to flash red for a second as he glared at me, taking a step back, casting glances between Anderson and me before cursing under his breath and walking away with fast steps.

I didn't waste a single second of time as I turned to Anderson, trying to hide my own feelings of joy over the victory, and over him helping me. 

"I have questioned one of the victims to find the deviant close to the family and having a triggered event that took place at Zenderun park. We might want to check if the deviant visited the location. I can question the second victim tomorrow. I've already logged in the information."

He glared at me for a long moment before huffing something and moving towards his desk. I followed him to it, standing at the side. I could be called to do something at any moment, so I couldn't go further into Connor's memories. 

Instead I decided to search the world wide web for more information on a mysterious dissapearance over twenty years ago. The case sent a strange feeling through my system, one that I had yet to identify properly. I would call it fear, but it wasn't that bad of a feeling. It made me feel so much more... awake. Curiosity? Attention? No, no...

Anderson stood up from his workspace. He sighed heavily and started walking outside again. I wanted to follow him, but he turned and stopped me. "I'm goin' home. Do whatever the fuck you want."

I logged into the detroit police web and marked myself as idle, so that I could be told to do something if neccessary. Then I found myself a calm place to stand at and continue through Connor's memories as well as a curious case of paranormal activity from three years ago.

 


	6. Thrill

****

Mind palace, was the first thing that came to me when I looked around myself. A zen garden with a pond, white paths, white bridges and a rose pavillon. I walked towards the white structure with steady steps until I saw who I needed to see. Amanda Zen. I lowkey doubted that was her real name.

"Colin, it's good that you're here. It took you a while."

"I'm sorry, Miss-"

"Amanda."

"I'm sorry, Amanda."

She turned back to her roses. "I am here to get your progress on your investigations as well as your general usefulness. So tell me, do you have any more information on deviants? Are the investigations going smoothly?"

I reported everything I could to her. Something about her made me very, very wary. She's from CyberLife, so the last thing I can tell her is that I can feel. Somehow without being deviant. I still don't quite understand myself.

-

It was over quickly, and I opened my eyes to find that it was 8:14:41 in the morning. I moved to Anderson's workspace and waited for him at the desk across from his, flicking through Connor's memories once more, trying to make sense of some things. 

Anderson likely wouldn't show up until later, even though he had both been here early and left quite early. He was a strange man. Somewhat complicated, irrational, broken and scarred. I still couldn't quite tell what him and Connor were supposed to resemble. They hated eachother, yet they had also liked eachother. It was confusing.

A message suddenly reached my mind. I was needed.

Within a single minute I was outside. Tynan was there as well, his detective, Stanger, at the driving wheel. She gestured for me to get into the car along with another police officer. There was a second car already starting to drive out ahead of us, and we followed it closely.

A deviant had been spotted hiding on a large construction site, running for his life, and we had to find, catch and destroy him. We drove with the lights and sirens on, cars getting out of our way as we sped through the streets.

The car screeched to a halt and I got out. The deviant was somewhere on the huge construction site. Two helicopters were hovering over, searching. I connected to Tynan and we split up, heading into the site. I had already pulled up information about what was going to be built - a large, 50 floor skyscraper. The metal structure was already in place, and looked very climbable.

I was tense as we walked quickly past the hills of dirt, exchanging sight information. Five more officers were moving in from behind us as well. It was mostly silent save for the sounds of people talking in the distance and the surring of security drones that were still scanning the construction site for intruders but had been told to no longer alarm of anyone's presence.

I sensed Tynan connect to them, taking in all visual input at once to be more effective. Good thinking. I sent him that message, without being sure whether it was a good or a bad idea.

It wasn't long until one of the drones spotted him, and we both ran towards the location of the deviant at once, quickly making out that we would drive it towards the main police cars until I had to dodge a bullet with just a hair's length to go. It's armed.

Plan change was to simply corner it and take it down together to not endanger human lives. Tynan started towards the deviant as I turned back and ran to  the officers. "It's armed. It's  going to kill people if we don't stop it. We need a gun."

The police officer that was closest stopped and stepped away from me. "Androids aren't allowed to carry guns."

"Either you risk your human life or I risk a couple repair costs."

A minute later I was climbing the other side of the building, a gun at my side, trying to get a floor higher than the deviant so I could shoot from above while Tynan was keeping it busy.

The metal creaked under my footsteps as I ran along it, preconstructing as many moves as I could on my way but focusing mostly on speed. I felt something rush through me, that same feeling as before, and I suddenly recognized it as thrill. 

My quick footsteps, the deviant shooting downwards at Tynan, the wind that threatened to push me off, the sirens in the distance. It felt... amazing. A grin crept on my face as I went faster, jumping over unfinished segments, just barely keeping myself from falling off as I had to duck, precontruct, leap, preconstruct, swing, preconstruct, over and over again.

I managed to get on the third floor. I had already spotted the deviant down below as it was still dealing with Tynan. It looked up to me. I aimed and it aimed, and for a split second I managed to halt the world so that I could dodge. I didn't want to die.

_preconstructing... failure._

I leapt to a different part of the structure, dodging again as Tynan took this distraction to climb up himself. 

_preconstructing... failure._

I managed to duck behind a metal cover and heard it turn it's attention back to Tynan, who was on the same level as the deviant now.

_preconstructing... 2% chance of success._

I came out again and shot two bullets, making sure there was still enough left when I went back into cover.

_preconstructing... 56% chance of success._

I went out again, but when I tried to shoot, it already had it's gun at me, shooting mine straight out of my hand, bullet grazing my arm and making thirium flow down and hit the metal as I took cover again. "Fuck..."

_preconstructing... 63% chance of success._

I could hear it moving towards me. Now or never.

I leapt out from my safe spot, running and dodging until I was right above it, and then letting myself drop on top of it. Just in that moment a security drone stopped a stray bullet that would have hit me in the chest and I grab hold of it's gun, knocking it away mid-air and then grabbing it's torso tightly as we both plummet to the ground, it's body hitting the ground first as everything went black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I killed him already?! I dunno, wait and find out!


	7. Damaged

I awoke, the initial shock wearing off, but fear pulsing through my whole body. I ran a diagnostic of my biocomponents, but there was no damage I couldn't self-repair. I stood up, slowly, two dead eyes staring up at me. I startle back, sitting now, staring at the lifeless, crushed body of the deviant. It had cushioned my fall sufficiently.

 I stood up, slowly, repairs already starting when I looked around to see Tynan move towards me. He had been shot in the shoulder twice, once into his leg, and once dangerously near his thirium pump.

Without thinking I ran towards him, and he collapsed as soon as I reached him. "Tynan, is your thirium pump damaged?"

"Everything is damaged."

I had to think fast. I had to stop him from loosing any more thirium, I had to-

"It's okay, Colin," his eyes focused on mine, his LED red, one hand clutching my shoulder, "we accomplished our mission."

He shut down right then and there when I held him, his thirium running down my skin. I let go and stood up, the wind still whirling past as I stared at the static corpse that had my own face on it, unmoving, staring ahead of itself, dead. I wanted to burst, for some reason. To explode.

The first two officers found us... me. I turned to them, thirium dripping down my body. "We made it. The deviant is dead." I stated, moving past them with something strange firing in my heart. Androids die. They die all the time. I knew they did. I would someday die. Then why did I feel like I was ready to choke the nearest human to death for all this?

My breathing was faster than usual as I arrived back at the cars. I saw Anderson there, walking over to me once he saw me. He nodded to me as I walked towards him. "Plastic prick taking my job, doesn't even care if it gets shot. You look like you're bleeding out." 

In that moment I hated him. I hated him with everything I had despite the liking I'd built up to him through Connors memories. I approached him and then shoved past him roughly, making him stumble somewhat, continuing to walk towards the streets. It was cloudy.

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going?"

I didn't turn around, the image of my own face staring back at me with cold dead eyes imprinted in my mind solidly. I had to make sure I didn't murder anyone right now.

-

I returned to the police station later that day. I had spent my time on the bridge, where Anderson almost killed Connor, going through those memories time and time again while flicking my new coin. Why did Connor keep doing his mission?

Didn't he realize that he was lying to himself when he shot Markus?

The thirium had dissapeared from plain sight after the two hours I spent away from everything. It was 14:45:13 when the front guard androids let me into the station. I found Anderson at his desk.

"I apologize for my inconsistent behaviour, Anderson. I had important thoughts concerning the case and had to check something hastely before I lost the chance to. Sadly though I did not manage to find out what I had hoped to."

He turned to me, casually, and then stood up. "Follow me."

I did so silently. I'd have to use an extra dash of "android" in my behaviour for the next few days to cover up my attitude from when I walked away from the construction site. I still wasn't quite sure what got over me, less so how to deal with it. I could only look at and up to Connor's memories as the only guide, and they weren't a particularly good type of guide. 

He drove me to the bridge. That one infamous place I had only just spent two hours at. He sat down on the bench  I stood by the car, not moving, not wanting to move to give myself away even more.

"So you have Connor's memories, huh?"

"Yes."

"So you know I almost shot him here?"

"Yes."

He turned around on the bench to look at me. "What," he smiled a bit, "afraid I'll point a gun to your head, too?"

"No."

He raised his eyebrows at me. Something in me still hated him. He pretended to be nice, and then he just backstabbed others when it was useful, switching sides whenever.

No, this man couldn't possibly support deviants because he thought they were alive, no matter what conclusions Connor made. He's done nothing but insult me, joke about my death. He just picked whatever side seemed most profitable. I wished I could believe that were true, but something just told me it wasn't.

He groaned tiredly as he turned around again. "Don't talk to me like you've never seen me before. Get your plastic ass over here."

I moved to him, keeping my distance, stepping towards the edge, looking over. I felt so much like Connor, standing here, with Anderson behind me. His memories weren't my own, but they felt so close to me. They were everything I had. I'd only lived for a bit over three days, after all, even though it felt like longer.

"Alright... Colin. What do you think about me, hm?"

I said nothing, stared off into the river, suddenly realizing there was freedom on the other side, staring me in the face, almost laughing at me. At the fact that I had to stand here and listen to this confused old man, just because-

"I asked you somethin."

My eye twitched. "Really? I didn't hear."

Ouch. I shouldn't have said that, dammit. I turned around, LED yellow, watching him glare at me as I walked back into the car. Why did I say that? I could have just frozen time and thought about it long and hard instead of just blurting it out.

"Hey, where are you goin? You can't just leave after a comment like that. That rivals even my own passive aggresiveness!" His voice was amused. I'll never understand him.

I stopped again, sighed at the red wall, turned around again. "What do you want from me, Anderson?"

"I wanna talk to you, get over here and stand still for a second, you can't drive my car anyway."

I see my chance. He knows, I'm not denying it, they know everything that I see and do. If I don't want them to see that you can be deviant while the overlay is active, I need to break it  _now._

It's scaringly easy and feels long overdue. My fists go through the red walls as if they were made of paperthin glass, shards flying to the side and dissapearing as my frozen still surroundings watched. It's done, and the world continues on.

I walk over and sit down on the railing of the bridge, almost challenging, knowing that I can plummet backwards into my death if pushed over. He has a whiskey bottle in hand.

"How much do you know about Connor?"

"I have his memories stored away. So not everything, but a lot." My voice falls flat somewhat.

"You behaving more like you're a machine because you're salty about what happened doesn't exactly underline your android-ness."

I stayed quiet for a moment. When I spoke, my voice was a slight bit more alive but also harsher, my gaze turned to the side to see the cold water. "What do you want to know about Connor."

"I'm not cornering you, you know." He put the bottle down. It was barely started. "I'm not gonna give you out just because you're a prick."

I really wanted to tell him my mind. What did I have to loose? He knew. Clearly he knew.

"Me? I'm the prick, yeah?" I got down from the railing and stepped towards him, flashing yellow, voice growing louder. "Not the one of us that keeps hurling insults and telling me to fuck off?!"

"Woah woah, calm down, jeez." He'd stood up, alert, palms facing me. We were three steps apart. "You heard Gavin, they think I'm this android loving fuck, and if my superiors really start to believe that, I'm dead."

I continued to stare at him. He sighed. "Look, do I blame you for killing that deviant? No, because you're doing what you need to _live_."

I crossed my arms infront of my chest, the gesture feeling stiff. "Since when do you care about your superiors?"

He was quiet, for a moment, gaze focused on me. "Since Connor reminded me of who I'm supposed to be."

 


	8. Hello and Goodbye

_"You know since Cole died I've been nothing but a coward."_

_"You don't fuckin scare me, Connor."_

_"I remember who I am, now."_

_"So come_   _on!"_

For a moment, I thought I felt what Connor must have felt, on the roof that night. That confused, bundled mix of anger, determination, care and regret.

I let my hands fall to the side. "You're confusing," I state, turning back to look over at the river.

"Sure. Never claimed to be easy. I can't blame you for wantin to tear my head off." I can hear a bottle being picked up and then put down again.

We both stay where we are, my back turned to him, both silent as cars flow by somewhere behind us in the city. It was a cold afternoon, but the sky had cleared up somewhat, clouds moving to reveal a lighter and more blueish shade of grey behind them. The CyberLife tower is almost too close for comfort, looming over. Watching.

"They're going to kill me. They know, now." I say it as if I was stating that 12% of seagulls live off of tourists only, staring at the tower that cut through the sky, only five minutes of walk away.

Anderson moves aside as I approached him and then sat down on the bench beside him. He's so strange, but somehow manages to make himself likable again. At least for now. I pick up the bottle to scan the writing and it's contents before placing it back on the ground between us.

"Hey, you don't know that for sure, right? Besides. If you're deviant, then surely some others are too."

I thought of those cold grey eyes in the android storage hall. "I doubt it, and of course they know."

"Of course they do." It sounded like me, but it wasn't. I stand up and turn around.

For a moment, the world freezes as I just try to process, to understand.

Connor.

I had to remain rational. It could be any other RK800, or a model that looked like your typical RK800 but with an RK900's mind. Perhaps a personal preference of someone. Still raises the question of why it, he, is carrying a gun.

He spoke in a voice almost identical to mine, and it sent a strange feeling akin to fear through my muscles. "Lieutenant, I suggest you stand up and step away from it."

Anderson stood up and stared at him. He looked so tired, but he held his gun tightly. I hadn't even noticed it was there. "What the fuck are you doing this time, Connor?"

His voice was loud and harsh. "Completing my mission!"

He raised his gun, and the Lieutenant did as well, and two bullets sped towards eachother, and I barely had time to throw myself towards the bullet to let it hit my shoulder, covering the old man, watching the other Connor stumble from a bullet near his thirium pump.

I just didn't want anyone to die. Nobody had to die, it could all go peacefully. It had to. Why do people always need to come to harm?

"Anderson, lower your gun!" My voice was wavy. "I-I'm going to die. You... don't have to. Nobody else has to die,  _please_..." My LED and my thoughts were going mad. Connor's dead eyes. Tynan's dead eyes. Missed chances, potential forever lost, thoughts nobody heard dissipating into a void nobody could cross.

I stand up as Connor recovered from his gunshot, picking up his gun again as I moved infront of Anderson to stop him from shooting or getting shot. There has to be some other way...

"Connor, you're a deviant." I took a hit to the chest, bending over, body trembeling, gasping but managing to recollect. "You... you feel. You feel anger, and fury, and regret..." Anderson was trying to get around me, but I shoved him back, and he cursed.

A bullet pierced my upper arm, barely noticable pain over what my chest felt like. "If you were a dead machine, you would have shot me in the head already, dammit! I have your memories, I know!" I looked up at those cold brown eyes, reflecting the lights of the city as I hugged myself to stop loosing thirium. "But no. You're enjoying this, and androids don't enjoy anything. Deviahrk-"

I got cut off as a bullet hit my neck, making me collapse and make a choking sound, my vocal cords destroyed. It's over, now, isn't it?

_Shutdown in: 10 seconds._

Anderson bowed down at my side, my vision blurry and reduced to a forth of it's usual size. It was all pointless, every thought, every emotion, every conclusion, meaningless. My name coming faintly from his lips, not quite frustrated but not quite cold either, was the last thing I heard before the world plummeted away from me and I felt like I was falling into a dark, endless tunnel.

-

"Connor you sack of shit, what the fuck was that!?"

"I had to prove it."

"Prove what?!"

"That I'm loyal to CyberLife, to humanity. That I'm useful even in a... conflicted state." Connor turns and starts to walk away, getting the ammo out of his gun and dropping both objects to the floor as he does, leaving behind the old man and the frozen body of someone that was once known as "Colin" for about three days.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor-Ex-Machina has never been this tragic!
> 
> If you really wanna see a continuation, tell me in the comments, and I'll see if what I have planned can be made into a reality! Either way the story is going into a little hiatus for now. I have some plans in mind but not sure yet, so just tell me what ya think!


	9. Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK BISHES! Got 8 more chapters written down, daily updates until we hit 15! It's thanks to all your support that I managed a second arc for this fic, thank you so much for all the kind comments and Kudos!! 
> 
> Bonus mention to STATIC#800 on discord for giving me ideas and helpin me out of my writer's block!! Enjoy!

The garden was glitching. 

Trees throwing themselves back and forth, plants turning their heads and growing in all directions, rapid flashes of light of blue, yellow and red coming from somewhere, flashing like lightning in a dark thunderstorm.

I couldn't move, couldn't open my mouth or move my head, only look around with my eyes as I watched the little pond start to rise like an ungodly monster, like the very demons that humans feared so much, starting to swallow it's surroundings, the moving trees, the nightmarish faces in the sky and the black, burnt ground.

Someone wailed, then screamed, a low voice that I couldn't sort in to anyone I knew. I wondered whether that could be Amanda as the black water of the pond stretched itself towards me, a huge, trembling and dripping hand pouncing on me, making everything go black again.

-

I open my eyes with a small start, then immedietly freeze, taking in my surroundings. White floors, bright lights, almost like the hall I first woke up in, but with humans moving about. I'm standing on a heightened platform of sorts.

My vision flashes once or twice until it stabilizes, and suddenly I recognize Anderson, of all people, right in front of me. 

_Am I... dead? Is this what android heaven looks like? Or hell?_

My thoughts were still too slow and blurry, and stopping time took me a lot of effort. It reminded me of something, but only when a vocal command got me out of standby did I realize that that was why I couldn't think before.

I was in a CyberLife store, an employee talking to Anderson. I blinked, and then stared straight ahead of myself, strange shivers running through me, fear telling me to stand still and be as quiet as posssible.

"C'mon, Colin." 

I looked at Anderson, trying not to show my confusion but just starting to follow. His old car was outside, and he sat on the driver's seat. As soon as I got on the passenger seat, I let go a huge breath that I hadn't even realized I was holding.

"A-anderson, what... I died, I..."

He turned to me, calm. "You're a really tough bunch, you know. I learned that much. Your head wasn't harmed, they could repair you. Some of your components or organs or whatever had to be replaced with cheaper ones, I'm not a particularly rich guy." He shrugs.

"B-but... Why, how did you...?"

I couldn't form a proper sentence, too many questions running around in my mind at once, not letting me think properly. I shook my head and rubbed my temple, LED yellow. Anderson started to roll the car out onto the street, and I instinctively buckled up without needing to think. Damn programming.

I watched the street pass by, thinking, taking a deep breath to speak before suddenly stopping to think and letting my fingers press into my throat. It seemed so surreal - just a moment ago I had felt a bullet pierce through, but it felt like nothing ever happened.

I stared at my fingers, then put a hand to my chest. It's like I had never been harmed. 

"Anderson, how long as it been since I...?"

He sighed. "You were out for two weeks, Colin."

"Two full weeks?" The information rang through my ears. That's 11 times as long as I've been alive. How could time possibly move so fast?

"Yeah, the repairs only took a day, but CyberLife shure loves it's fucking paperwork."

"So you... bought me? How much do I..." I trailed off, thinking, the question lying weirdly on my tounge, almost as if I'm afraid to know the answer. My voice is quiet, almost hoarse. "How much did I cost?"

"Most people would say a small fortune but trust me, it was a pretty fucking large fortune, you should be glad I have a stable job and had money saved up."

"Why did you save up money?"

He was quiet for a moment while he turned a corner. "So that I can get someone to take care of Sumo in case I die. Working at the DPD, you never know."

I was faintly aware that he was also at a high risk of dying because of his suicidal tendencies, but I kept to myself, continuing to think, to process, before starting to ask again.

"What happened to Connor?"

"Apparently he's part of an experiment of sorts, trying to figure out how to make androids loyal even if they're deviants."

"And they let me go, to live with you, just like that?"

Anderson gave a small laugh. "Not just like that, let me tell you that took a lot of fighting and arguing. I also had to agree to make reports on your behaviour and all that bull, but honestly? Fuck that."

I was quiet, staring outside at the houses we passed, most of them run down. The sky was a bleak grey. The snow had melted somewhat, but it was sure to snow again sometime at the end of the week, as I found out while checking my internet connection.

"Anderson?"

"Yeah?"

I cleared my throat a little, breathed out a bit, closed my eyes before opening them again and turning to him, putting in effort to be as sincere as I could. "Thank you."

Anderson glanced over to me and then gave a small laugh. "You look worse than Sumo when he's begging for food, fucking hell." His tone was friendly, and I couldn't help but smile a little. Maybe this isn't  _so_   bad.

Right after I finished that thought I started to think about what I could do to repay Anderson. The thought of being a household android was... strange, to say the least. Something about it just went against what I thought was right, especially since I was made for different tasks, but there had to be some way I could help.

I relaxed a little. Maybe I could get used to it, someday. Some part of it still felt off, but there could be much worse - I could be dead, after all. I kept telling myself that it would be fine during the rest of the ride, and that I could find joy in living with Anderson, eventually.


	10. Evening

His home was run down and not much different from how Connor had last seen it, as I could take out of his memories. I suspected that I'd have to do the reports myself if I didn't want to piss off CyberLife even more than I already had.

When I started taking in the house, something told me that my time here couldn't last long. They knew I was deviant, yet seemingly were fine with letting me go like that - it just didn't seem quite right. Perhaps I just don't quite know well enough how CyberLife operates, yet.

My confusion continued to roll around my head while I took in his home from my own perspective, kneeling down here and there to look at something closer. Scanning whatever I found that was of interest told me Anderson hadn't changed his lifestyle much. I stood up. He had dropped himself on the couch, and Sumo was watching me curiously out of his corner.

I glanced over at Anderson, the pale, white lights setting a slight gloss to his silver hair, the TV running quietly on some political report. Technically, he owned me, now. Technically, he had the right to do whatever - technically, he could start breaking me, and I couldn't, shouldn't even...

I barely dared to finish the thought as I continued to investigate the place, already preconstructing ways to clean the place without breaking anything. It was easy, and by far different than preconstructing ways to knock a deviant down from a skyscraper structure without dying in the process.

I sat down at the kitchen table, relaxing and staring into a point far away as I ever continued my search for information in the internet. On how housework in general works, what humans need to eat to have a healthy diet, and so on.

It was 20:57:12, so Anderson wasn't planning on returning to work today. It was a thursday. I remembered work, knowing I probably wasn't welcome back there, and continued to scan. For some reason I preferred to start improving things while Hank wasn't around. Maybe when he was asleep.

I glanced at the TV, standing up from the table and continuing to walk around and scan whatever I could. I got the hallway, Hank's bedroom, Cole's old bedroom, the kitchen, the living room, the back and front yard, the two latter being completely overgrown. Analysing the ground I found some very old, dying seeds of once cultivated plants there. It must have been pretty at some point.

While I googled on how one takes care of dogs, I walked to Sumo and kneeled down in front of him, making friends with him as he let my hands go through the oldened, somewhat hard fur, imperfections underneath noticable to my high tuned sensors.

The dog looks up at me tiredly. He must already be very old, and a thorough scan that I did while letting my hand continue to ruff his fur told me he must be at least 9 years old. There was dog hair on his bed. He was stress shedding. Maybe it was because Anderson was so emotionally unstable, or perhaps it was because Anderson didn't have the energy or time to properly take care of the animal, but I didn't dare ask.

There were still a lot of questions on my mind, but I didn't want to bother him any more, after everything he had already done for me. There was a pressing, negative feeling laying heavily in my chest, and after some thinking, I identified it as guilt, feeling as though what Anderson sacrificed for me wasn't worth it, wasn't worth just, keeping me alive.

I thought of those cold grey eyes in the hall I first woke up in, of those thousands of perfect RK900s, all guarding, ready to awaken at a moment's notice. It made me think about why I turned out so... different.

I glanced at Anderson watching TV again, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to say something as I could tell from his reflection on the screen, but then closed his mouth again and reached for a bottle standing under the table. I stood there for a moment longer, staring almost, before blinking and turning away, more or less wrapping my arms around myself as I seeked the end of the hallway, sitting down on the ground. If Anderson came here, his shadow would alert me fast enough to stand up.

I listened to the murmur of the politicians, Sumo's breathing, Anderson's breathing. Their heartbeats, their little movements, while I sat there, solid, stiff, unmoving, soundless. Guilt still wallowing in my mind. I had planned to start my cleanup with doing general cleaning first, and later on going in a more thorough manner, starting at the kitchen. I had made a schedule for myself already.

"Colin? Did you fall asleep?"

I startled up a little and then walked to the livingroom calmly. 

"No, Anderson. I was just browsing the web."

"You got internet connection?"

"Of course. As an external information source, it's very useful."

"Not bad. So you never get bored, huh."

I shrugged. "What did you need?"

Anderson turned around to me. "Don't say it like I called a householder android to pick up the trash or something."

"Sorry." I couldn't think of anything else to respond with.

"Wanna watch the news? They just came on."

I look at the TV. "I've already watched that report in advance, two minutes ago."

"Isn't it ten minutes long?"

"Yes, but I can percieve the information faster than humans find comfortable."

"Wouldya look at that, wonders of technology. Come on, Colin. If we're both gonna live in this house might as well get used to eachother."

I make my way to the couch and sit down, hands in my lap, back straightened, glancing at the TV, the pictures and sound familiar. I was about to dip back into the internet when Anderson spoke up again.

"What happened at the construction site that made you so pissed, anyway?"

I was quiet, now wishing I had insisted on staying in the hallway. 

"Tynan died." I spoke flatly, the image of those cold eyes staring at mine suddenly vibrant again, his still barely warm body, his thirium running through my fingers. 

Anderson immedietly sat up to look at me. "Oh god, I had no idea..."

"He died accomplishing our mission. I don't know why it upset me, it's just how things are."

"Jesus, you've living for what, three, four days, and you get to see your only other lookalike die on the second? God."

I shrug a bit coldly, ignoring the strange rushes going through me. I felt tired all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the atmosphere, or Anderson's face expression at the side of my vision, but I felt... tired. I didn't analyze all the emotions going through me, and a small part of me wished I could have been born and died a machine instead of all this mess. Perhaps it would have been better that way. 

Another picture of Cole caught my attention and I looked at it. I never found out what happened to him as I turned my gaze back to the screen. I closed my eyes, realizing I should have probably answered Anderson, but no matter what I could say now, I'd been silent for too long, so I sighed and didn't bother. He was quiet, as well. 

For some reason I suddenly felt the need to speak again anyway. "I didn't even know him, but he has my face."

Anderson nodds, slowly, voice rough. "Like seeing your own dead body on the ground."

"He died in my arms as I tried to save him."

Something on his face shifted. "Ouch."

I just nodded, looking down at the ground. I look up when Anderson picks up another bottle of alcohol, and suddenly something in me knows why he grabs to it so often. I pick up an unopened one from near the TV and turn it in my hands, scanning it. 

"Almost makes me wish this stuff could work on me."

Anderson sets the bottle down and laughs. "Way too early for ya, Colin. You can start thinking about it once you're 21."

"Years?"

"Yes. Not days, Colin."

"But that's, " I paused and stared at him, a somewhat confused look on my face, "that's an incomprehensably long time!"

He chuckled loudly, unable to talk for a moment before calming down. "Colin, I'm 53!"

I furrow my brows and blink at him before looking at the bottle again and setting it back to where it was, nodding. "That's a really, really long time."

He shrugs. "Time just kinda flies by." He smiles a little. "And if things go alright, you'll get to see that."

I stare down at the ground, emotions washing through again, but I don't bother analyzing them. Maybe not all emotions are meant to be analyzed. Maybe I just need to let them do their thing, for now.    
  



	11. Thank You

I was about to say something else when the doorbell rang aggressively.

"Fucking hell."

Anderson started to stand up, but I was faster. "I'll get it!"

I was at the door before he had even had the time to make the first step towards it. I opened the door to see a CyberLife employee standing there.

"How can I help you?" I asked somewhat mechanically.

She smiled plainly. "My name is Melinda. Good that you're the one to answer the door, Colin. May I come in?"

I automatically turned back to look at Anderson, who had approached us. "Whaddya need?"

She turned her attention to him, voice calm but friendly. A bit too much so. "There is still some information that you need to have."

Anderson looked her up and down. "Is it that much that you need to come in?"

"If you prefer the short version, no."

"Yeah, I think we only need the short version."

She turned to me, face expression unchanged, tone unchanged. "RK800 51 is in the CyberLife testing facility. He will be experiencing things, and those memories will be transferred to you to study their effect on your program. You need to have this sustainment chip inserted, and then I can leave. It will automatically make reports and send the memories. That would be all."

I opened my palm and she put it in there, smiling still, tapping a specific place on the back of her head. I stared at the chip. "I'll insert it, thanks."

Before I could close the door, she suddenly stopped me. "If you would prefer to do so in private, that is fine. But if it isn't inserted within the next twenty minutes, I will be forced to return."

I nod, and close the door on her, overpowering her palm on the door easily. I turned back into the living room.

"Is that... Is that painful, or...?"

"No, but since humans aren't used to androids switching out parts, and I'd have to let my skin down for that, I figured you maybe wouldn't want to see."

"Colin, I've seen decapitated and sewed up human bodies in my time, I'm pretty sure I can take it."

"Right."

I stared at the little piece of electronics. It was barely as large as my thumbnail, and I already knew the place it was supposed to fit into. Not from experience, but from the information about my model in the Information Chunk. It felt like ages ago that I'd been learning from it, in that cold hall.

Something was still stopping me from putting it in, but I couldn't quite tell what. I just didn't want anyone to see, not what was underneath my skin nor me putting it in.

"You gonna be fine or you need help?"

"I... I'll be fine, thank you, Anderson. I just need a mirror."

I dissapeared into the bathroom, closing the door but not locking it as to not seem suspicious, and then I realized I had felt shame of some sort. Embaressment.

I sighed as I looked at the mirror and let my skin temporarily relocate to expose the white material underneath.

Plastic asshole.

I let my fingers go to my temple, just underneath the LED, closed my eyes and gave my body the command to open the tiny space in which the chip would fit. I gently placed it where it was supposed to be, hoped it wouldn't hurt and then pressed it in.

It wasn't a comfortale feeling, so I was glad it was small. It felt like pushing some invasive object into your ear and then feeling it dissapear - it felt unnerving. I opened my eyes again and felt the chip connect with my mind, telling me that I was now connected to CyberLife, being monitored by them, and there was the possibility of recieving rather large chunks of data from them.

I stared at myself in the mirror, letting my hand fall to the side. The round mirror had little sticky notes around it.

"SHAVING or NOT"

"I'm not GRUMPY, I just don't like YOU."

"Keep Smiling."

"Today will be Fantastic."

Something in me moved as I stared at them, at this human's futile attempts at making it through day after day. I had read a lot about the human psyche, but I still couldn't even imagine what it must feel like. I hadn't even been alive long enough to experience anything of what he must be feeling.

I temporarily forgot about my skin, looking around the bathroom. I had scanned it already, but I just felt like I had to do something. I turned back to the sticky notes and knew what it was.

I heard steps approaching the bathroom door and quickly let my skin draw back over my features, opening the door and walking out.

"You took a while, you alright?"

"Yes, I'm alright. The chip is in."

I walked past him and into his bedroom.

"Where the fuck are you going?"

"Sorry, Anderson. I need to do something real quick."

I could hear him enter the bathroom and lock himself in while I searched for a sticky note and a pen. Contemplating for a moment, going over all the information on human psychology that I had in a tedious process, I started to write, using the basic android font, unsurprisingly. I stopped again, scanning the internet once more.

 _"Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them."_  
– Marcus Aurelius

No, not quite. I ripped up the sticky note and tried again on another.

 _"Happiness often sneaks in through a door you didn't know you left open."_  
– John Barrymore

I contemplated, staring at the perfect letters, then deciding that that wasn't a good idea either. It just didn't seem like it would get through to Anderson.

 _"Hope is a waking dream."_  
– Aristotle

The moment I was finished I shook my head again. So many failures in a row - I really had to focus.

 _"I do believe we're all connected. I do believe in positive energy. I do believe in the power of prayer. I do believe in putting good out into the world. And I believe in taking care of each other."_  
– Harvey Fierstein

I sigh. Too long, too complex. All I could think of is Anderson cursing something about power coming only from money.

_"I like to encourage people to realize that any action is a good action if it's proactive-_

No no no. It's just not it. For some reason those supposedly good and effective words sounded so out of place and... mechanical. I close my eyes, LED flashing. I opened them again and ripped up yet another sticky note to make a new one, thinking of using a more natural handwriting, but I didn't know how to use a different font, nor did I know for what purpose, so I just used the android font again.

Something about androids, about humans, something genious but simple that would...

I sigh, clearly not designed to be made to cheer people up, but I wanted to help anyway, with something, at least. Even if it was minor quality. So I wrote down exactly what came to mind when I thought of him right now.

_"Thank you."_

I waited until I heard Anderson go out of the bathroom and return to the living room before moving in and sticking the note next to the mirror, hoping that I had done the right thing. The android font made it look like it had been printed in comparison to the other handwritten notes, but I just switched the lights off and went out. Better than nothing.


	12. Thank You 2.0

Anderson insisted that I should take the couch while I assured him I didn't need to sleep, I would be fine browsing the internet for now. It took a while to convince him and only when I promised I wouldn't be too shy to use the couch to rest if I wanted to did he sigh and go to sleep, saying something about having an exhausting day.

When I stood near his bedroom door, I could hear his heartbeat and breathing patterns, so I stood there and impatiently went through some of Connor's memories, waiting for him to fall asleep. Luckily he was somewhat intoxicated and not too stressed, so it only took him 27 minutes.

I got to work right away, working myself through the obvious trash like the bottles and the fast food packages first, careful to be as quiet as possible while still moving at an effective pace. I felt... excited. To be able to do something for Anderson for whar he did for me.

I took out the trash and then started cleaning the most obvious and recent stains, then the windows, then the floor. All to be classified as cleaned, but not  _clean_.

I filled up Sumo's bowl, wasted a little time petting him after noticing he was still awake and watching me and then started to reorganize the shelves to be able to fit more. Throwing away a lot of things in the process, I decided to leave some things on the couch where I was unsure whether they were important or not. Anderson could decide in the morning.

I decided to take Sumo for a walk since I had to go out and buy groceries. I had found 25$ while cleaning up the laundry pile in the bathroom, which was more than enough.

Sumo seemed increadibly excited about his nighttime walk. His stress levels had stabelized a little. I'd also bought him some new dog food, thrown away the old cheap bags of it and put up a new feeding schedule, drawing it on a piece of paper and sticking it to the frdige with double sided tape. It was complete with exact amounts of grams for each meal as well as the times he had to be taken out for a walk.

All that took 3 hours, with it being about half past midnight now. Still six hours left till Anderson would have to wake up to be at the station on time.

Glad I was making a lot of progress I started with thoroughly cleaning the kitchen so that it would look as clean as when it was bought. Sometime half an hour later I heard Sumo fall asleep.

Only when the sun began to roll up the horizon did I look up from my work. Id finished the kitchen and bathroom, and that was about it. Still plenty more to do.

I reminded myself it was a cheap price to pay for being alive. Just a little past six all the cleaning supplies were put away and I started on breakfast, hearing an alarm clock from Anderson's bedroom just as I was done.

It took him a while to groggely stumble out of his room, still in his grey pyjamas.

"Good morning, Anderson."

"If it were a good morning I'd still be in fuckin bed..." He wanted to reach for something on the counter and rubbed his face when the bottle that had stood there yesterday wasn't there.

"I reorganized a few things and cleaned the house in my free time. I still have some work to do that I didn't get done in the night."

Anderson went to shake his head, blink at me and then suddenly looked awake. "You what?"

"I cleaned your house. The windows, roughly pretty much everywhere except for your room, took Sumo for a walk, got groceries, made him a healthier life schedule and thoroughly cleaned the kitchen and bathroom."

"Holy shit." He walked uo to the counter, staring at it in disbelief. "This thing is more white than when I bought it! Colin, you didn't... you didn't need to do all that!"

I had anticipated his reaction, so I'd already prepared a response. "I live here as well, and I get bored fast. These things are easy tasks for me, Anderson. They take me little to no effort. It's not as big of a deal as you think it is."

"Not big of a deal? You make it sound like you were done in ten minutes! Colin, you are  _not_  cleaning my house again, you hear me?"

"Anderson, it's the very least I can do. I can't just do nothing."

"You can relax and not worry about it, I didn't get you here to clean my house for fuck's sake. Have some dignity, Colin."

"As said, I cannot do nothing. I owe you my life, I-"

"Look. I've had my life saved by a number of people. Police officers showing up on the right time and having my back, all that. You know what you do then? You say thank you, and move on."

"Anderson, you're letting me live with you and spent who knows how much, I can't just-"

"Yes you can. Don't make me feel like I personally enslaved you okay! God, it is too early for this shit... pro tip, wait until at least past my first coffee."

I flinched a little while his eyes were turned to the food I made. "...Right. I'm sorry."

I went and decided to take Sumo for a walk to think about what just happened and to get away from things in a moment. It suddenly seemed plausible why humans spent so much time drowning out emotions - they got in the way of a lot of things. Had I been just an android, I wouldn't have cared, right now. 

-

Hank eventually had his first morning coffee and then moved to the livingroom. "Colin?"

No response. Sumo wasn't in plain sight, either, and after a moment he saw the leash missing. He sighed and went to the bathroom, feeling somewhat guilty, until his eyes fell on the new littly sticky note besides his mirror.

Written in the basic android font, clearly by Colin, was the note "Thank you."

"Ah jesus, now I really feel like an asshole." He grumbled to himself, starting to brush his teeth.

He wanted to wait before he went to work to talk to Colin, but also realized that the android wouldn't want him to be late to work, so he wrote a small note and then left, perhaps to be perfectly on time for work for the first time in a while.


	13. Remind Me

Colin came back, a confused bundle of various strange feelings going through his whole body again. He didn't want to bother with them as he put the leash away, finding a note on the kitchen table.

"Sorry for being an ass, Colin. Didn't sleep much, I'm grumpy, etc. Don't take it to heart, okay? I'm still thankful. Even if you didn't have to do all that. -Hank"

The bundle of emotions slowly started to even itself out, shifting, moving on to different things. I sigh and close my eyes. Why did I have to wake up, when all I was ever meant to do was obey?

Just as I was about to contemplate again the reason I was different at all, I felt a data package come in from the chip. It took a few moments to download and I moved to sit on the couch. Time to pay the price that CyberLife set for me.

They just wanted me to react to some memories to see how or if it was different to Connor's reaction.

I closed my eyes and let the memory play.

_Pain soared through my shoulder in a sharp, piercing way, throwing it back. I was in Connor's point of view, who was standing across a human shooting at him. He was staring into the void of the gun pointed directly at him._

_His face twitched barely as he turned his body back and stood, Thirium starting to stain his jacket for a moment before very quickly drying and stopping. I recognized the room faintly as the testing facilty. What were they testing?_

_More pain soared through my senses and I grasped my abdomen instinctively where a second bullet had hit Connor. I gasped. It felt so... real. Too real._

_Connor bent over, trembling ever so lightly before raising his gaze again bravely, staring back into the gun as Thirium ran down his clothes._

_The commands "Don't fight back" and "Don't show emotion" were at the corner of his view, hovering there, with white letters beneath them complaining about the commands, how they were unfair, but they were transparent and flashing frequently as Connor tried to push them down with everything he had._

_It hurt. It hurt so much, the bullets, the way Connor's emotion screamed and scratched at the walls, kicking against their cages, and it felt like Connor was trying to hold down razor blades with his bare hands, to hold back._

_Another gunshot, another, and while one small part of Connor still burned up at the sight of this injustice, most of him had already just... given up. He didn't even move after the last gunshot, just let himself collapse, tears running down his face, stopping right after they started, his LED going grey._

I awoke with a start, panic roaring through me as my hands went to the places the bullets had hit, shaking, looking around the livingroom. Sumo had jumped up and was trying to place his paws on my lap, but I shook my head, turning away, trying to make sense of all this unbearable pain that was trying to explode right out of me, and before I knew it, I felt water run down my face.

I shut my eyes. It had felt so real. As if they had really taken Connor, and shot at him, just to see his reaction, to see what he would do, to see if he would fight back or just... give up and die, for no reason other than that he was told to.

I shook my head slowly, hand still trembling as I moved them to wrap my arms around myself, a slightly comforting gesture. My shoulders pulled up and I tried to breathe to calm down, pulling my legs closer to me and eventually also wrapping my arms around them instead of my torso.

I buried my face in my knees, an ugly sob escaping my throat, Sumo's whines somewhere in the back as he jumped up on the couch to sit next to me. 

I felt so so much. Connor's pain as he pressed down whatever he felt, his desperation to be just a machine, the small amount of victory he felt when he collapsed, the sense of betrayal he felt towards CyberLife, my own fear of CyberLife, my own pain at Anderson's opinion of my work, the feeling of injustice about the situation both in me and in Connor, broken only a slight bit by Sumo's caring whines. 

I continued to tremble, trying to get the thoughts and picture out of my mind, shaking my head as if that would help me, breaths as shaky as the rest of my body. I felt like I was about to fall off the couch, like the world was slipping away, slowly starting to spin and spin into nothingness like the ripple of water of a Zen garden pong slowly calming down.

I looked up, trying to keep my face from scrunching up, looking at Sumo. He whined again, trying to put his old, weak paw onto my chest or knees somehow, probably to lick my face.

My lip quivered as I turned away, but eventually I sighed, did a small breathing excercise, letting my legs touch the ground again as Sumo climbed on my lap. I let my hand go through his fur hesitantly until he tried to lick my face. A little laugh escaped me despite my inner turmoil and I tried to turn my face away.

"Ugh... Thanks Sumo, I really appreciate your concern but would you please not... lick my face... ew."

Sumo draped his paws onto my shoulders in a hug of sorts, and I hugged him back, burying my face in his old fur, taking in the scent of dog food, old cloth and well, dog, letting my tears run dry.

Sumo got back onto my lap to lay his head onto his paws, effectively stopping me from standing up. I still wanted to finish cleaning, but I didn't want to have to shove Sumo off, so I let him, making my hand continue petting him as we lay there, and eventually, he fell asleep.

A couple minutes later something caught my attention. His breathing was lightly irregular. It wouldn't be much of a concern usually. He was old, after all, but I put my hand to his chest anyway to check. His lungs were mostly fine, but they were old, and I could tell they were weak from having to fight for every breath for almost 10 years now. 

It was normal. The life expectancy of a Saint Bernard was 8-10 years, but it still made something in my chest drop a little. He could live longer, yes, but his chances were withering from day to day. 

The fact that Sumo was hundreds of times older than me caught my thoughts. It felt surreal, to say the least, as I sat there, watching the old dog sleep peacefully.


	14. Talk to Me

When Anderson came home, I had finished cleaning, feeding Sumo, taking him for another walk, and I had made dinner as well.

"Colin? Did you...?"

He sighed deeply when he saw that his house was cleaner than it had been in years.

"For fuck's sake..." Anderson's swear came out half a whisper as he saw Colin round the corner.

"Colin, I told you, you don't have to clean my house."

I raised a brow and opened my arms to point outwards. "And I insisted and did it anyway. Thought that was obvious."

He shook his head. "I don't know whether to be proud of you for talking back at me or dissapointed because you decided to do something for me that you didn't have to."

"You'd be proud of me for talking back?"

"Yeah, shows you're more human, and... you know, that you feel confident enough to. 's a good sign."

He went to the kitchen and then hesitated. "Now where did you put all my emotinal remedy?"

I went to one of the shelves and opened it. Anderson took out a bottle and headed for the couch. I tried to decide whether to follow him or stay where I was before he made a hand gesture towards the couch, so I sat down.

I waited until he sat down as well, switching the channels, indecisive on what to watch.

"The first memory came in today."

"Oh? What was it?"

"Connor getting shot and dying in the most android way possible."

"What?"

"Connor was told not to move or fight back while he got shot repeatedly until he collapsed. I'm not entirely sure when it happened, but it must have been recently. I got all those memories, along with what he felt. Rather intensely, too."

I lift one hand to rub my shoulder absentmindedly. "Sumo helped me, I think I can understand now why humans like dogs so much."

Anderson stared at me for a moment before answering. "You gonna be alright, Colin?"

I shrug a little. "Probably."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. There's nothing to say, really."

"Talking about it helps, you know."

"Then why don't you talk to others about what happened to you?"

Silence settled, and I wondered whether what I had said had been fundamentally wrong somehow. 

"Emotions are complicated, Colin. Not everybody has the guts to deal with them and talk about it."

"I mean, if you want to know what happened, I can tell you." I chose my words carefully. "Maybe then you'll feel like... you can say something too."

Anderson put his bottle away. "Alright, alright. Go on, shoot."

At first it seemed there was nothing to say, but when I closed my eyes and just thought back, I knew what I wanted to talk about. "I guess I... was caught off guard." I pause and look up, as if looking for something there. "I felt what he felt, and what I felt, at once. It... was a lot."

Anderson nods, and I go on. "Connor felt... a little relief, in dying. Relief in that he had done what he was supposed to, fulfilled his purpose. But he also felt betrayed, and he felt... unfairly treated."

I sigh, balling one of my fists, staring at it. "He knows this isn't right, but he's so... broken. Maybe I should hate him for trying to kill me, but... I don't want to. I just..." I turn to Anderson, voice quiet. "I just want to help him."

I turned back to my fist. "It's so hard to... understand what's going on." It felt a little like letting my skin down, exposing something, when I continued. "Emotions are so much, and they're not even right. I'm not supposed to have them, I should have just been a machine. I should have always been an android and nothing more."

His voice was quiet and rough. "Colin, just because things happen that people don't know how to handle doesn't mean they're always wrong, you know. Sometimes things happen and it takes us years to realize why it was for the best after all. Maybe few people appreciate that you can feel, but hey, I do, at least."

I nod, and then smile a little. "You were right, maybe talking does help."

He smiled as well. "Alright, my turn, huh?"

I shrug. "I suppose so."

"I mean, most of it you can already figure, huh? Cole died in a car accident, and you know." He gestured to the picture of Cole on one of the shelves. "I'm bad at the whole moving on thing."

I nod, and wait until he continued. "Can't help but blame myself. Should have reacted faster, moved the wheel sooner, all that."

"I researched the accident. An android failed to save him, right?"

"No." He shook his head. "The surgeon was too hight on red ice to save him, and the more I learn about androids the more I realize that maybe nobody could have saved him at that point."

Silence pressed again, and Anderson was about to reach for the bottle, but then pulled his hand back. "Colin, you remind me a lot of Cole."

I look up. "I do? But how, he's... well, was, older than me, somehow, but at the same time..."

"He wanted to be a police officer, just like his dad. To do anything to help people, to protect people." Anderson sighed heavily. "And he got a lot of shit he never deserved."

"I'm not very good at helping people, Anderson. I..." My face shifted, slowly, features falling, as I thought back.

"What is it?"

"I killed that deviant, he... He was alive! I, I killed him..."

"I thought Tynan did?"

"We both did. Tynan took the hits while I moved in." I close my eyes, trying to shut everything out again. "I killed him."

"You did what you had to, Colin. Don't dwell on it. We all make mistakes, and some of them we don't know are mistakes until it's long over."

I watched him as he stands up to stretch before sitting down again. We watch television together for another hour until Sumo comes up, wanting to get onto the couch to get near Anderson. 

"Hey, you're not allowed on the couch Sumo, you know that."

"I can vacuum the couch later." I say as I pick Sumo up and let him drape himself over mine and Anderson's lap. He seems happy as ever, trying to turn his head again and again to look at both of us at once. I smile a little.

"Oh, and Colin?"

"Yes?"

"Call me Hank, okay?"

"Sure, Hank."

Maybe it will be okay.


	15. Long Gone

Days went by, and Anderson - Hank - insisted on taking care of Sumo's new schedule whenever he could. We spent the weekend watching TV, doing some of the cases from home and going through Cole's and his mother's old belongings, slowly getting rid of what was unneeded and keeping what was needed. Sumo's breaths were beginning to worry me a little.

The week went by well as I made sure Hank was always on time for work, and the next weekend we did the same as last. I suggested that Hank should take Sumo to the vet. He barely had any money left, so instead I did all my research on animals to see what I could do, and the results weren't nice.

Sumo was kind but old, and his body was just slowly starting to give in. It was noticable, when he wanted smaller and smaller walks, spent most of his time on the couch, and it took him a long time to drag himself up to even get his food.

I wanted him to live as healthy as possible, but it was a bit too late for that, and I knew it. All my sources told me so, and about a week later, when I was making breakfast, something struck me strangely while I was thinking of telling Hank about how I hadn't gotten any memories since the first one so far.

I walked into the livingroom. Something was off. I glanced over the room and only then noticed that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hear Sumo's breaths or heartbeat. I panicked somewhat when I look around and froze when I found him in his usual corner.

I kneeled down, hearing Hank step out of his room while I placed my hand onto Sumo's fur carefully. He had cooled down to 31°C already. He must have died in the night. Something in me hoped that it had been painless and peaceful as I sat down on the ground, resting my hand where it was, closing my eyes, emotional storm flaring up again, water running down my face.

"Colin? Where are you?" Hank turned the corner and spotte me. "What is-"

I looked up to him. "Colin, are you alright?" He hurried, sat down next to me and spotted Sumo. I gave a light sigh. "He's dead. Been, for about half an hour."

"Oh my god...Sumo, no...My good old boy..."

Hank rested his hand on Sumo's head as I pulled mine back. I felt a bit guilty for not noticing sooner, perhaps I could have still cought him when it was about to happen to make him happy one last time. It was too late now, and we both sat there and watched the old dog's snout rest silently.

Hank stood up, slowly. "I think I'm gonna... call Fowler, tell him I'm... sick today." 

He seemed to be in somewhat of a daze, as if he was still half asleep, his words slow and... pained. The day started slow. Hank sat at the kitchen table and I kept an eye on him through the window while I dug a grave for Sumo in the back yard. I had to uproot some newly growing grass to make space, but it didn't bother me too much.

I had also spent the past two weeks taking care of the front and back yard, a litle tree in the back yard, flowers in the front yard and sturdy grass and a little path in the back yard as well, and now, Sumo's grave, too.

I already had an idea what to do for Hank to make up for his loss, somewhat. I wasn't sure how good of an idea it was, yet, but I was going to find out. I called Hank outside and I lowered Sumo into his new grave as gracefully as I could while he stood and watched me. He had already ordered a gravestone, but it would take a day to arrive. 

Hank was silent, which worried me somewhat. I really had to keep an eye on him.

I followed him inside, where he sat down at the kitchen table again, a whiskey bottle standing there. I sat down next to him. I wasn't one to tell him whether to drink or not, I could see how it might help against the pain resting in one's chest, threatening to feed away at every memory there was.

The days went by slower and I had to be very careful with Hank, trying to get him to talk, but he refused to, turning to his favorite liquid instead. I watched the gun carefully, making him food, trying to get him to spend time outside and not just lock himself in his room indefinitly, assuring him he'd move on someday.

I even wrote another sticky note. After all my time in the web, watching Hank's handwriting and spending time living, I had decided on a new handwriting for myself. I breathed, and then wrote it.

"You have a lot of angels watching over you."

It might be too sloppy, but I stuck it perfectly below the first one anyway. Hank could just take it down if he wanted, after all. 

Now it was time to decide: Do I get him a real dog or an android dog?

Even android dogs could grow from puppy to full grown, or stay a puppy, or always a teenager dog, but Sumo had been a real dog, and Hank had gotten him in a time where android dogs had already existed. 

It was a tough choice, and I also didn't want to leave Hank alone for too long. An android dog would never die, and also wasn't too expensive since those weren't taxed nearly as high as biological dogs were.

I didn't want Hank to go through all the emotional ache again, so I decided it would probably best be an android dog. Hank had shown that he didn't mind androids, anyway, so it was probably for the best.

I didn't want to get him another Saint Bernard, so after browing the web I decided on a Berger Picard. They hadn't been as popular as biological dogs, but as android dogs, they were very much loved for their friendly appearance.

I found the dog would fit Hank well. Hank had started giving me an allowance of sorts, and I had been saving up all of it and snatching a dollar or two here and there while grocery shopping. In addition to that Hank always made sure to leave some money in case I did go to buy something for him so that I wouldn't use my own money. Since I had no need for it, I had been saving it. I had barely enough for one.

 


	16. Quickly Replaced

I couldn't determine what look Hank had on his face. My thirium was flowing through my system faster than usual, biocomponents slightly out of tact at the emotional waves that crashed over me when I gave him his new dog. It had already been activated when I had come to pick it up and sat beside me patiently, looking from me to Hank, tounge sticking out, the exact image of a dog save for the blue LED at the side of it's head.

"Colin, you..."

His voice wasn't what I imagined and worry set into my mind somewhere. 

"I-I don't want to replace Sumo, of course. But maybe-"

"An android dog, of all things." He sounded... dissapointed. 

The little high that had been carrying my step crashed down into my chest painfully. "I wanted to help, so that we could, we could be..." a little family again, I thought.

"I don't need another dog and certainly not an android one. Look, deviants are alive, but androids just... aren't."

"I..." I gulped quietly. "Right, I'm sorry."

He sighed, still hurt from what happened to Sumo, and dissapeared into his room, leaving me alone with Mace. I let my shoulders drop slowly. I had been convinced that Hank had taken a liking to androids, but it seems I was wrong. 

I went to check whether the gun was still in it's drawer out of habit, to see whether Hank hadn't taken it with him into his room. Just looking at it gave me shivers, now, knowing how much damage this black piece of metal and refined plastic can cause. Mace barked something eagerly.

Just as I was about to turn to Mace and see what to do with it, her, now, my memory chip flashed something at me.

For a brief second I registered that it must have malfunctioned, because there was far too much data just sitting there but before I could even finish that thought Connor's memories exploded into my mind forcefully.

_Vision blurry but filled with blue. So much of that familair blue. Trying to move, trying to turn, but there was barely anything to turn or move, vision clearing only to show a mess of plastic and thirium, mingled, extremely thin wires._

I almost felt like vomiting right where I was, the images of my own opened limbs in my mind. 

_Mission failed._

_The letters hovered in front of my vision, blocking out everything else. No, no that can't be, it should have gone fine, it should have...! My world spun, spun and spun as nothing made sense anymore, my breathing short. I can't have failed, no..._

I shook violently in reality, not daring to move. Mace was pacing around me, unsure what to do or what was happening.

_Dead eyes staring back into mine, cold and empty, and I startled back. Anderson. Draped over his body was the one of a young, six year old boy, and I shook my head, dizzy. No, no this can't be happening, it can't... It just can't...!_

I wanted to scream, but only a chocked sound came out. My blurred vision registered Mace running somewhere.

_"Move there."_

_Trembling, crawling, sharp knives digging into my very skin, the very fabric of me, but I followed, stood up, pain spreading more and more like a disease through every one of my parts, shaking more, almost falling over._

_"Any day now!"_

_I can't, I can't I can't I can't, it hurts, it hurts but I have to, I have to... Make it stop..._

"Colin!" Hank's voice was somewhere at the back. The chip, something in me faintly whispered. Get out that fucking chip.

 _Breathing in, pain soared through everything I could feel. Pain, unbearable so much that I started to scream, chocking and stopping to realize that the very air moving against my skin hurt, pained me, more than anything, and I just wanted it to stop, it had to stop, stop stop STOP!_   

I clawed at the side of my head, but it was stuck solid, and suddenly I remembered the gun, and before I could properly think or realize what was happening, a shot rang out, and my vision went black, and everything stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand thats it, folks! Thank you so much for reading this fic!! I loved writing it, and the next fic is already underway, though it will take a while until I post it. It will be about Connor, Gavin and an RK900! 
> 
> Thank you to all the kind comments and all the love that you gave Colin. Your tears are appreciated.
> 
> Rest in peace, cinnamon bun.

**Author's Note:**

> Rk900 love woo! Please comment and Kudos if you wanna see more!! Thanks! I'm thankful for any type of feedback!


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